“No, you don’t hate parties. You love ’em. And this party is next Tuesday, and if you two boys don’t go in and win,—for me—you’re no good!”
“What’s it to you, Doll?” asked her brother, detecting the earnest note in Dolly’s voice.
“It means a lot, Bert,” and Dolly’s voice shook a little. “But never mind that now. You two just do as we girls—”
“Ours not to reason why,” exclaimed Bob; “ours but to do or die! and we’ll do anything or anybody you say. Now, as to details, what is our special rôle at this party racket?”
“Just this,” said Dotty. “To push up Bernice’s stock! Be awfully nice to her yourselves. Make the other boys be nice to her, too. See that she has a partner for every dance and a good time at every game,—or whatever they have. Hover round her at supper time, and in general make her think she’s It!”
“Well, Sweet Sister, what you say, goes! But you’ve given us a pretty large order! You know the lady, I take it?”
“Yes, but you don’t. At least, you don’t know that she’s a heap nicer than she used to be. Also, you don’t know what a great big whopping reason there is for all this. If you did, you’d—why, you’d fly over there at once, there’d be no holding you!”
“And can’t we know?”
“Not just now,” said Dolly, looking mysterious. “Some day, if you’re good, I may tell you. Till then, you must work in the dark. Oh, you are good boys! I knew I could depend on you! Have some more fudge.”
“Oh thank you so much! Say, if we promise to do all and more than mortal can ask to further that crazy project of yours, can we drop the subject for now?”